


Burning Bridges

by NamelesslyNightlock



Series: Going Down Swinging [98]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Choices, Enemies With Benefits, Established Relationship, Feels, Fluff, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Relationship Reveal, Secret Relationship, Tony Stark Has A Heart, ultimatum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:02:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29558145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Loki is losing a fight against the Avengers. Tony knows he really should just let it happen, but– he has to dosomething.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: Going Down Swinging [98]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1330490
Comments: 41
Kudos: 328





	Burning Bridges

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt** — _“You were always gold to me.”_

Loki was losing. 

Tony realised it with a sudden and awful jerk, pulling to a stop in mid-air, ignoring all other sounds of the fight as he watched his teammate attack his clandestine lover.

It was almost impossible to comprehend, yet it was clear– Loki was tiring, his blasts of seiðr growing both more desperate and far weaker. Thor was gaining the upper hand, and even as Tony watched a lightning strike that Loki could only partially block struck the god in his side. 

Loki stumbled, falling to one knee, and despite the distance Tony saw the pain stretch across his face—

Shit. 

_Shit—_

Tony had no fucking idea what to do. He couldn’t just _watch—_

But he couldn’t do anything _else,_ either. Loki was– he was a _villain,_ he brought nothing but chaos and destruction wherever he went. 

And yet…

Gritting his teeth and steeling his soul, Tony dove down through the air, pushing his suit to its limits. He shot past Thor with enough force to knock him off his feet, ignored the shouts and curses of the other Avengers in his ears—

Closed his arms around Loki’s waist and then shot straight back up into the sky. 

He didn’t know where he was going, he didn’t have a plan– his only thought was to get Loki _away._

He could still hear the others, he could feel the crackle of lightning building in the air. He tried to fly faster, pushing himself _away—_

Then the lightning was replaced by a massive surge of power, Loki’s seiðr curling around them both and sending Tony hurtling not through the air, but through the very fabric of reality itself, skating over the branches of Yggdrasil and along the edges of the universe—

And then he crashed into solid ground, the pair of them hitting _hard_ and losing all of their breath. 

Tony groaned as Loki rolled off him, every part of his body deciding that it was time to _hurt._ God. He was going to be just one big bruise tomorrow, he could feel it. 

“JARVIS,” Tony groaned. “Get this thing off me.” 

JARVIS was quick to comply, the suit pulling apart and allowing Tony to pull himself free. Thankfully, he was still all in one piece, though it really did not feel like it. 

Once he was left in just his jeans and shirt, Tony let his eyes glance around his surroundings. It was a living room, but it wasn’t a place that he recognised– though he _did_ find a lot of the items scattered around rather familiar. The mug resting on the coffee table was one that Tony had bought Loki himself, the dagger beside it was one Tony had made with his own hands, and the blanket over the back of the couch was _definitely_ the same one that had gone missing from Tony’s penthouse a month or so before. 

This was Loki’s home– or at the very least, the place that he lived while he was on Midgard. 

Tony drew in a breath. “You’ve never brought me here before,” he said, his voice cautious. “You told me you didn’t want to risk it.” 

Not because he didn’t trust Tony, Loki had promised– but because a simple slip could so easily result in someone finding out about this thing between them, could so easily result in them being torn apart. 

“The risk is different, now.”

Loki’s voice was not as tense as Tony expected it to be, and he met that green gaze in surprise. Loki was watching him almost carefully, assessing, _waiting,_ looking not unlike a snake prepared to strike.

Tony fought to clear his head. “What do you mean? If they find out about us, they’ll still—”

“They know now that you are not on their side,” Loki cut in, taking a small step closer. “They know that their _friend_ has chosen their _enemy._ Any chance of continuing to hide is lost. It’s too late.”

As he spoke, Loki lifted a hand to brush the back of his fingers over Tony’s cheek– and despite himself, Tony couldn’t help but lean into the touch.

“There might still be a way—”

“No, you’ve made your choice,” Loki said, his voice low and deep as his hand fell back to his side. “And you made it very _clear._ You’re with me, they all saw it.”

Tony swallowed. He’d known that, he’d known it before he’d swooped down to tear Loki from the clutches of his destruction. And he’d acted anyway.

“I couldn’t let Thor take you to Asgard,” Tony explained. “I couldn’t let them kill you.”

“Admirable.” Loki tilted his head, considering Tony carefully once more. There was a gleam in his gaze which Tony wasn’t quite sure what to make of. “But foolish. Anthony, you will never be able to go back to them, not now. Right or wrong, it’s done. You _can’t_ go back—”

“Perhaps I could tell them I was trying to gain your trust, or something—” 

“No, Anthony, you are not listening,” Loki hissed. “There is _no going back from here,_ they all saw what you did. _This_ is where you are now, and this is where you will _stay.”_

Tony felt his eyes widen. He knew his own feelings for Loki, but given the way Loki had acted – not wanting Tony to get too close, _rarely_ staying the night – he’d thought his affection to be one sided. But… from the emotion in Loki’s voice in those last few words, he couldn’t hope but wonder if he had been mistaken.

And if… well, if there was something for him here, then perhaps losing the Avengers would not be quite so bad as he had feared.

But—

“And, are _you_ okay with that?” Tony asked, his voice feeling a little clammed. “I mean… do you _want_ me with you, or should I expect to be left high and dry now that I am no longer close with your enemies?”

Loki’s eyes widened for a moment, his lips parting in an expression that was rather uncharacteristic. “You think that I…”

“You’ve just never really given any indication that you want something more than that,” Tony said, hearing the blankness in his own tone. “You’ve just, always felt… a bit distant?”

“I thought that given an ultimatum, you would have chosen them over me,” Loki whispered. “But you _didn’t._ You chose _me,_ and now—” Loki cut himself off, and in a matter of a split second– his voice hardened back into his earlier hiss, though this time… it sounded near _possessive._ “You were always gold to me, Anthony. Beyond precious. And now that I am aware of where your loyalty and your _heart_ lies, I will not be giving you up again.”

Tony gasped as Loki surged forward to crash their lips together, kissing with all the passion his words suggested. It was a kiss of hunger, of need, of _yearning,_ everything that they had felt for each other but hadn’t felt able to show, everything that had tormented them through the secrecy and lies. It was a kiss of relief, of finally being _free,_ and it lasted until they had both run out of breath.

Then they stood pressed together, their chests heaving, gazes locked as neither wished to miss a single moment of _this._

“No,” Loki whispered, his voice far softer than Tony had ever heard it. “I’m not letting you go.”

“Good,” Tony replied– and he leaned forward to brush their lips together again, in just the lightest of possible touches. “Because I’m quite sure that I don’t want you to.”

Because yeah, what Loki had said was right– there would be no return from here, no changing his mind. Not that it mattered. He’d made his choice and he knew, given the chance, he’d make the same again.

He’d burned his bridges with racing blood, and now the fire inside him was blooming– but he was exactly where he was meant to be.

And he wouldn’t ever look back.


End file.
